


Tomorrow is Lonely

by Kayleen756894



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Biting, Boot Worship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Escapism, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, I really chose to write 17k of self-indulgent sin huh, Loss of Control, Masochism, Non-Abusive Junkan, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Riding Crops, Sadism, Sex Toys, Soft Junko, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, degradation kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleen756894/pseuds/Kayleen756894
Summary: Simply getting to call Junko ‘Mistress’ again was a scrumptious treat, her first dose of sugar after months of tasteless rations, and Mikan’s sweet tooth was insatiable.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Tsumiki Mikan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 115





	Tomorrow is Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am to grace the Junko x Mikan tag again lol
> 
> We support proper BDSM etiquette in this house. Consent, communication and compassion is sexy y’all. I’ve written self-indulgent stuff before but this one really takes the cake, the icing, the filling, the strawberries, literally everything.
> 
> Warning for explicit sexual content (but y’all should already know that, and you’re probably here for that, if you clicked on this fic)

Mikan learned how to fake a smile anytime acquaintances asked how her life was going but truthfully she felt drained, numb and lonely. Then she would immediately feel bad for feeling those things since she was much more privileged and lucky than others she knew—she had a home, a job and an amazing partner—but that knowledge didn’t stop those feelings from dwelling in the shadow of her every step.

She sighed, leaning against the elevator railing as it carried her up to her apartment floor. She was exhausted from a particularly long and frustrating day at work. Normally Mikan loved taking care of people but today there were just too many needy patients, all her coworkers were lazy, and since they were already short-staffed Mikan was forced to skip her lunch to complete all the strenuous work, too much for one person, that kept her there an extra hour.

Not to mention her boss kept switching her day and night shifts around and calling her in on her scarce days off, so not only did Mikan maintain a disastrous sleep cycle, but she barely got to spend any time with her girlfriend.

She didn’t expect Junko to be home. Junko usually stayed out late for her own job, some business she apparently co-owned with her sister, not getting back until Mikan was already asleep. Sometimes Mikan tried waiting up for her but she either ended up passing out on the couch or completely fatiguing herself for her shift the next day. It only grew more saddening as time passed, the days and weeks all blending together like a thick fog. Mikan craved a good morning kiss, a welcome home kiss, a good night kiss, any form of affection in their dysfunctional domestic life that would make the taxing, forlorn work seem worth it, but their schedules just never lined up for such things.

As long as she woke up the next morning and felt the warmth of Junko’s body next to her, Mikan told herself she was okay with how things were.

Didn’t mean she didn’t wish she could have Junko all to herself most nights, though. It had been months since she got to fall asleep in Junko’s arms—even longer since the two of them went on a proper date, or made love, or even just spent a few free hours relaxing together.

She missed Junko. She missed how those lithe fingers threaded through her hair, how those acrylic nails scratched at her scalp, how those pigtails bounced when she walked, how the light reflected the wicked glint in those ice blue eyes, how she hugged with all her strength, how those soft, painted lips curled into a smile when they kissed—all precious memories that Mikan seldom experienced anymore. Mikan just wanted to spend time with her.

Mikan carried hope that things wouldn’t always be like this. Someday their jobs wouldn’t be this frenzied, this horribly scheduled, and they would get to spend lots of quality time together. That was the future Mikan wanted and she would give anything to make it happen.

The elevator dinged at her floor, the doors opening. Unfortunately, this was her life for now, the daily trips to and from this stuffy metal box leading to poorly painted beige walls and ugly patterned carpets. It was hard, it was lonely, but she did love her work and loved Junko even more, and thus she would push through no matter what.

Mikan walked to the end of the hall and unlocked her door, her keys complimented by a cute syringe keychain Junko got her for her birthday, and when she swung open the door... the lights were on?

She wasn’t given any time to worry about it because familiar blonde pigtails immediately hopped out of the kitchen.

“Welcome home my sexy, hardworking nurse!”

Junko sauntered over with a giant grin and gave Mikan a long, sweet kiss. Mikan was too stunned to kiss back, too stunned to even close her eyes, and remained frozen even when Junko pulled away.

“What?” Junko batted her eyelashes, her infectious grin shining bright. “Happy to see me?”

“Y-yes!” Mikan breathed, reaching out to lay her hands on Junko’s shoulders simply to feel her, to prove to herself that Junko was here and she wasn’t dreaming. Mikan couldn’t fight her smile. Despite the exhaustion plaguing her bones, her body felt lighter than air. “I... I didn’t expect you to be here. W-what about your—”

Junko waved her hand. “Muku-roach has it covered. It’s been too long since we’ve spent the night together.”

Mikan’s heart throbbed. Junko usually wasn’t open about how she felt. Had Junko missed her, too? Had she planned this?

After the initial rush of seeing Junko faded and Mikan was able to get a good look at her, she noticed Junko was wearing an apron overtop an oversized v-neck shirt and sweat pants and, even more surprisingly, wasn’t wearing any makeup. Warmth blossomed in Mikan’s chest; she loved seeing Junko dress so casually. Junko never let anyone else see her looking like that.

A strong savoury smell wafted to Mikan’s nose from the kitchen and only then did Mikan clue in to why Junko was clad in an apron in the first place. “Did you... c-cook me dinner?”

Junko winked. “Wanted to surprise you. I know it’s a little late but I figured you’d be hungry.”

Mikan was salivating already. Junko’s cooking was delicious and it had been way too long since she partook in one of her meals fresh off the stove. Mikan followed Junko into the kitchen, noting the used knives and cutting boards encompassing most of the space on their cramped counters, and watched as she stirred a broth littered with meats and vegetables.

“I-I didn’t have time to eat today so this is incredible. T-thank you, Junko.”

“My surprises are the best, huh?” Junko boasted without a smidge of humility, holding her head high. “Tell me I’m amazing.”

Mikan hugged her from behind, laying her head on Junko’s shoulder. “They are. A-and you’re amazing.”

Junko leaned back into her hold. “Fuck yeah I am. Absolutely nailing this basic bitch romantic shit tonight. Gold star for me.”

Mikan giggled, holding Junko tighter. She was so thankful for this moment, if for nothing more than to hear Junko enjoying herself. She would work gruelling shifts like she had today everyday if it meant she could come home to Junko like this.

A few minutes later Junko shed her apron and served Mikan a nearly overflowing bowl and took a much smaller helping for herself.

“T-take some more, Junko,” Mikan said. “You should get to e-enjoy your own cooking.”

Junko waved off the suggestion. “Nah, this much is fine. I made it for you after all.”

As sweet as that was Mikan knew it was an excuse. Junko never ate enough. Even after all these years and with Mikan helping as much as Junko’s pride allowed, Junko was still frighteningly skinny.

“Please, j-just a little more.” Mikan rested her hand on Junko’s arm. “F-for me?”

Junko stared at her for a long time with those calculating eyes but as intense as they were Mikan didn’t look away. She was a nurse. She loved helping people. She wanted her lover healthy. As much as she loved taking care of Junko when she was sick, she would rather not have Junko collapse from malnutrition.

Mikan was weak under Junko’s stare and a mousy individual in general, but she wouldn’t budge on this and Junko must have known that.

“ _Ugh_ , fine,” Junko groaned with a pout, adding another scoop to her bowl. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Mikan blushed at the compliment and gave Junko’s arm an appreciative squeeze.

They sat at their small kitchen table that was pushed against the wall, half the wooden surface cluttered with papers and knickknacks. Mikan couldn’t recall the last time they enjoyed a meal here together.

Mikan took a bite and nearly moaned.

“T-this is delicious, Junko. T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Junko said, taking an obnoxious slurp of her own. “So how was work? Tell me everything.” Then Junko giggled. “That’s what most partners ask their breadwinners, right? I thought it would be boring but it’s actually kinda exciting. A new step in our relationship, babe!”

Mikan giggled, too. There was something pleasant about this homely side of Junko. Usually she was too chaotic for something this tame and ordinary. Well, ordinary to other couples perhaps. They hadn’t really had time to even attempt the act of domestic normalcy.

“One of my patients gave me a hard time today,” Mikan said.

“The one with the heart condition?”

Mikan paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. Junko remembered? Mikan only mentioned it once the other day before she rushed out the door.

“Yeah,” Mikan breathed, taking her bite.

Acrylic nails drummed against the table. “Just let him die. He’s dead already, ain’t he?”

Such an insensitive comment probably would’ve shocked someone else but Mikan took them all in stride now, learning it was best to just reply seriously to whatever strange things popped out of Junko’s mouth. “Y-yes, but we have to give him the best care until he passes.”

Junko blew a raspberry. “The best care is letting him give you a hard time?”

Mikan shrugged. People walked all over her for her entire life. This treatment wasn’t anything new. “My c-coworkers sometimes help me deal with him but none were any h-help today.” Mikan winced, pressing her fingers together. “O-one of them tried h-hitting on me again, though.”

“ _Again_?” Junko’s eyes sharpened. “Want me to kill him?”

“J-Junko, don’t say that—”

“Oh I’m not just saying that; I’ll chop his dick off and choke him with it. You’re mine.”

Mikan blushed, butterflies taking flight in her belly. She liked when Junko got jealous and protective, even if she couldn’t gauge the authenticity of Junko’s constant vulgar threats against anyone who even looked at her the wrong way.

“I-I’m sure he’ll stop eventually when he s-sees I’m not interested. No k-killing or surgical removal needed.”

“Aw.” Junko pouted, looking disappointed. “At least tell me you’ll think about it.”

Mikan decided to humour her. “Okay. I-I’ll think about it.”

And it was worth it for the bright smile and the cheerful, “Yay!” sung from Junko’s lips.

After the filling and scrumptious meal Junko flopped on the couch, holding out her hands and making cute grabby motions. Mikan got the picture and nestled on top of her, sighing as Junko ran her fingers through her hair, gently fixing the tangles. Mikan used Junko’s soft breasts as a pillow and quickly noticed that Junko wasn’t wearing a bra, allowing Mikan to snuggle closer. They stayed like that for a few moments and Mikan enjoyed the tranquil stillness with the woman she loved, just indulging in her warmth and listening to her steady heartbeat.

Mikan missed this. Every second of every day she yearned for this and she felt blessed to receive it so soon—way sooner than she expected to.

“So what do you wanna do tonight?” Junko asked, gently breaking Mikan out of her thoughts. “Can be anything you want. We can watch a movie, we can go kidnap someone, maybe throw the loud ass kid that lives above us out the window; I’m down for whatever. I’m all yours, babe.”

Mikan was so used to the insane comments Junko often made they barely fazed her anymore—and partially because she knew if Junko actually planned on doing something illegal she wouldn’t be here joking about it, she’d be off doing it. So, instead, Mikan focused on how their bodies pressed together. The rise and fall of Junko’s chest against her own, the warmth of her skin, those soothing hands playing with her hair. For her, no better place existed than in Junko’s arms. Nowhere could be as peaceful or as exciting. So why would she want to spend her night anywhere else?

There were so many activities she could choose for them to do tonight but only one would truly cure her built up loneliness.

“I want you.”

Junko blinked. “Huh?”

“I-I want _you_ ,” Mikan repeated. “It’s been s-so long since we’ve had sex and if we finally have a night to ourselves I don’t want to m-miss the opportunity.” Mikan paused when she realized how forward that was and sputtered, “A-as long as you want that too, I-I mean. If y-you’re not in the mood we can—”

Junko shook her head, displaying a large grin. “Hey, I’m not complaining. I know I’m irresistible. And so are you, my sexy nurse.” She pressed a kiss to Mikan’s nose. “Anything special you wanna do or just vanilla shit?”

“I want...” Mikan paused, biting her lip. She considered her options—they had lots of kinky outfits in their closet, many still sadly unused—but she’d be lying if she said a certain one they did a long time ago didn’t sound the most appealing right now. “C-can we do a mistress roleplay?”

Junko actually looked a little shocked; a rarity. “You sure you don’t want something more, y’know, chill? You look like someone kicked the shit out of you.” A short pause and a cheeky grin. “I mean that in the best way.”

It wasn’t really possible to say that in the _best_ way, but she knew Junko meant well.

“I-I love when you’re in control,” Mikan admitted. “Helps me cut loose. Plus, you’re... I-I mean, you’re always hot, but... when y-you’re like that I just...”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Junko purred, her chest rumbling against Mikan’s kindling cheeks. “Do you want a nice mistress or a mean mistress?”

“Um.” Mikan looked away, heat rising up her neck. “B-both.”

“ _Both_?” Junko barked a laugh. “So you _really_ wanna have fun, huh? Must’ve been a shittier work day than you let on.”

Mikan shook her head. “It’s m-more than that. I’ve r-really missed you these past few months, and I just...” She squeezed her tight. “I-I want to forget about everything for awhile. About work, stress, the future, a-anything outside these walls. I just want to think about you. I-I want you to make sure I’m not thinking about a-anything else.”

Junko hummed, tilting Mikan’s chin up with a finger. “Lucky for you, that’s one of my many skills.” Junko kissed her, soft and slow, and Mikan melted against her. “Go clean yourself up and relax. I’ll set everything up and leave some clothes outside the bathroom for you. Any specific toys or anything you want me to use?”

She was so considerate, both of Mikan’s anxieties and desires. Mikan loved her so much.

“Anything. I-I just want to be yours tonight.”

“All mine.” Junko playfully smacked her ass, making Mikan yelp. “Now go,” Junko genially pushed at her shoulders, “I gotta make myself look pretty.”

Mikan sat up, allowing Junko to do the same, scanning Junko’s seldom unfiltered features she felt blessed to see. “Y-you always look pretty,” Mikan commented shyly, getting an amused smirk from Junko.

“Charmer. That won’t get you anywhere with this roleplay tonight. But fine, yes, I’m always a ten. Then I’ll make myself look like a dominatrix.” Another quick kiss. “Sound good?”

Mikan tried to avoid picturing that because she knew the real thing would be better. “Sounds g-great.”

Mikan and Junko headed their separate ways, to the bathroom and bedroom respectively. Mikan let out a deep breath once she was alone, leaning against the cool wood of the closed door. She didn’t realize how loudly her heart was pounding until then, steady in her ears without Junko’s closeness as a distraction.

Junko was here. Junko was going to spend the night with her for the first time in god knows how long. Junko was going to make all her bad thoughts go away.

Junko was going to fuck her senseless.

Heat shot to her groin as Mikan shed her dirty uniform and hopped in the shower, keeping the water cool. She needed to relax like Junko told her—her mind, muscles and rising libido. She was going to spend the rest of the night sweaty and mindless, in a docile trance, and preparation for that state was essential.

She scrubbed herself thoroughly, using both a shampoo and body wash she knew Junko liked. She definitely let herself go since she and Junko hadn’t had the chance to have sex for awhile, so her razor got a tough workout. If she possessed a steadier hand she would have tried trimming a cute shape, maybe a heart or even a medical cross, in her pubic hair, but her clumsiness mixed with her jittery excitement would probably lead to a very painful cut.

Just looking presentable tonight was good enough.

Growing up she was called ugly and undesirable all the time, to the point where Mikan believed her bullies, but Junko thought she was pretty—even with ratty hair and clad in dirty uniforms and smelling like the vomit and blood of her sick patients. That was all Mikan cared about.

But she liked looking pretty for Junko, too, at least on special occasions or when she wanted to surprise her. If she had more time she would have tried putting on some makeup—not that it would’ve mattered, once she thought it over. Judging from past experiences, any carefully applied mascara would be running down her face by the end of the night.

Mikan trembled, squeezing her thighs together. She couldn’t wait. It had been way too long since Junko touched her, especially in an intense roleplay. Her mind, her body, her senses, her humility, her pride, she’d be handing everything she was over to Junko for her to do with as she pleased. She knew how talented Junko was at that. Junko would surely give her a long night of pleasure and pain, filled to the brim with overwhelming sensations until nothing else mattered.

 _God_ , she couldn’t wait.

After finishing her shower and drying up Mikan peeked out the door and, as Junko promised, an outfit was piled outside. A purple silk robe, stockings, and a two piece set of lingerie. _See-through_ lingerie Mikan realized after slipping them on, blushing from knowing Junko wanted to see her in it, followed by the rest of the comfortable clothing.

Mikan stared at her reflection in the foggy mirror. She was nervous, given by the tightness in her chest and the somersaults of her gut. But more than anything she was excited. She had Junko all to herself tonight. She would get to forget her worries and abandon all control, leaving everything in Junko’s capable and extremely skilled hands. After going to bed alone so many times for the past few months, nothing could be more exhilarating than this.

So why was she still staring at herself in the bathroom when she could be staring at Junko?

Mikan walked in their dim bedroom and closed the door, heart speeding up once she caught sight of Junko’s chosen outfit. Junko wore a black, strapless, shiny latex mini dress that didn’t even reach mid-thigh and barely contained her massive cleavage. She also wore black, latex, above the knee heeled boots, pushing her up to six feet. Her bountiful blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, swaying like a pendulum across her back as she laid out some towels on their bed—to protect their sheets from whatever delectable ideas she had planned.

When Junko acknowledged her presence and turned to face her Mikan noticed two things: one, that her old leather collar was in Junko’s hands—the physical evidence of Junko’s ownership of her and Mikan’s willing submission in this roleplay, and two, that two of Junko’s acrylic nails were removed and her natural nails had been trimmed.

Mikan shivered in anticipation.

Junko approached with short, unhurried strides while swaying her hips, fingering the ends of her mini dress. Mikan bit her lip, openly staring, silently begging for the tight material to lift a little higher, before panicking at her perverted thoughts and meeting Junko’s gaze, a confident grin bisecting Junko’s face.

Up close Mikan inhaled a strong whiff of Junko’s spicy perfume and admired Junko’s impressively fast and professional application of makeup. Her eyeliner was dark and crisp, complimented by false lashes and a crimson gradient eye shadow, and her cheekbones were highlighted and more pronounced. Her full, voluptuous lips popped in a maroon shade, the finish glossy and metallic, and Mikan prayed that lipstick would be tattooed all over her body come sunrise.

The combo of the outfit and makeup made Junko look like some sort of succubus ready to suck all the energy from her prey. Mikan briefly pictured her with horns, wings and a tail and hastily filed that ambrosial fantasy away for next time.

“How do I look?” Junko asked, peering down at Mikan with knowing, lidded eyes.

Mikan swallowed, her throat dry. Thanks to those boots she had to tilt her face up to look at Junko and that alone stirred heat in her loins. “I-I... uh...”

Junko chuckled. “Perfect.” Her expression softened, looking almost wistful. “You smell nice.”

Mikan was happy Junko noticed, calming somewhat. “T-thank you. So do you.”

Despite Junko’s intimidating and unbelievably sexy appearance, they hadn’t started the roleplay yet, and Junko’s hand on her cheek was tender and reassuring.

“You remember the safeword?” Junko asked, eyes scavenging hers, probably looking for any sign that Mikan didn’t actually want this.

But she did want this, more than anything. She wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise. Every cell in her body craved Junko’s dominance; for Junko to erase the existence of everything outside this room; to banish the terrible world they lived in and create their own in this wonderful fantasy.

“Yeah,” Mikan said, leaning into Junko’s touch.

Junko’s careful expression didn’t change. “Say it.”

It was sweet how much Junko cared, even if her ways of showing it weren’t obvious. Mikan knew Junko would never do anything to her without explicit permission. And that’s another reason why Mikan wanted to do this so badly; she felt safe with Junko. She knew Junko knew what she liked and didn’t like. She knew Junko would stop the second the safeword was uttered, or if Mikan gave any other implication that she wasn’t enjoying herself.

She trusted Junko. She knew Junko would take care of her.

“Hope,” Mikan replied. She always thought the safeword choice was a little odd but nothing killed Junko’s libido more than that word, so in the end it was fitting.

A satisfied smile stretched Junko’s lips. “Okie dokie,” Junko chirped, looking silly but cute saying something so childish in such an erotic outfit. “Had to check. Games aren’t fun unless everyone knows the rules.”

Junko wrapped the collar around Mikan’s neck, clipping it together and ensuring Mikan’s hair wasn’t stuck. She gave a gentle tug to the metal hoop that lay cool on Mikan’s collarbone. “Too tight?” Junko asked.

Mikan shook her head, feeling a nostalgic bliss she hadn’t felt in a long time now that her old collar was back where it belonged. Her neck felt cold and empty without it, exposed, like a knight without their prized armour.

“You’re sure?” Junko asked, voice phantasmal; barely audible but possessing the room, abiding in the opened beauty products scattered atop Junko’s vanity, in the atmospheric dip of the lighting, and in the neatly arranged towels on their bed that probably wouldn’t remain neat much longer. Mikan knew that question wasn’t about the collar and that Junko wouldn’t ask again.

“Yes, my beloved. I’m yours.”

Junko smiled, cradling Mikan’s face in her palms and pressing a lingering kiss to Mikan’s forehead. Mikan smiled too, sighing into Junko’s mouth when she kissed her lips. Mikan kissed back and cherished this moment as she was unsure if she would receive another kiss from Junko until the roleplay was over.

When Junko finally pulled away she turned her back to Mikan and returned to the bed, giving Mikan a generous view of her thighs and the curves of her ass protruding from her tight mini dress. Mikan remained by the door, frozen, but every nerve ending was ablaze with anticipation.

Junko sat on the mattress, crossing one long leg over the other, and inspected her nails, acting like Mikan wasn’t there. Over a minute passed and Mikan didn’t move from her spot but started shifting her weight back and forth, eager for her fantasy to begin. She had a feeling Junko would start things off like this, though. Junko loved making her wait, and Mikan learned by now not to rush her.

Then Junko glared at her, a sneer tainting what was such a caring smile just a moment ago. “Why are you still by the door eye-fucking me like some virgin?” Junko growled, snapping down at the space in front of her. “Get the fuck over here.”

The immediate shift in Junko’s tone and body language sent a jolt of excitement up Mikan’s spine. Beginning the night with Mean Mistress was exactly what Mikan hoped for. She wasn’t surprised that Junko knew her desires so well but was certainly appreciative.

Mikan hurried to Junko, standing straight with her hands folded behind her back and her head tilted down to show respect.

“Strip,” Junko commanded, voice hard and irrefutable. “ _Slowly_.”

Mikan gulped and obeyed, untying the robe concealing her body with jittery hands, letting it sink inch by inch down her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, then finally to a puddle on the floor, leaving her in the semi-transparent lingerie Junko gifted.

Junko’s eyes raked her form up and down and Mikan trembled under her intense gaze, feeling small and vulnerable and already so turned on. A few more moments and this flimsy underwear wouldn’t hide that fact at all.

Mikan reached to unhook her bra but Junko held up a hand signalling her to stop, so Mikan immediately returned her hands to the submissive position behind her back. As shy and embarrassed as Mikan felt under Junko’s unconditional attention, she knew hiding herself wouldn’t be tolerated.

And, if she were honest with herself, humiliation turned her on, too. Plus, knowing Junko and her sadistic methods, the humiliation would only amp up as the night progressed.

“There’s a million different things I could be doing right now,” Junko began condescendingly, “things that are actually _important_ , but instead I’m choosing to spend my night with you. You better be grateful.”

“Y-yes Mistress, t-thank you, I’m extremely g-grateful for your time,” Mikan said. The words surged like raging rapids from her mouth, rushed and skittish from her excitement. Simply getting to call Junko ‘Mistress’ again was a scrumptious treat, her first dose of sugar after months of tasteless rations, and Mikan’s sweet tooth was insatiable.

“You better make this worth it.” Junko re-crossed her legs, giving Mikan a—presumably purposeful—peek at her red thong; a glimpse of something she knew Mikan wanted, but it was something Mikan had to earn. “So tell me what you want.”

Mikan’s tongue felt heavy and foreign in her mouth, shrivelled and useless as she wracked her noisy brain for something to say. “I...”

“I can’t read your mind.” Junko tapped her boot impatiently. “Spit it out.”

“I-I want you to fuck me, Mistress!”

The words burst forth like an erupting volcano before Mikan fully processed them. Her cheeks flared with shame and embarrassment, but it was the honest truth.

“Obviously,” Junko snorted, nose crinkling with disgust. “Whores like you don’t want anything else.”

Mikan whimpered, the insult spiking heat at her core. She wanted to hear it again. She wanted Junko to degrade her so much more; to treat her like a disgusting, insignificant bug under her shoe.

“Convince me that you want it,” Junko continued, leaning forward, mattress creaking under her movements. “Tell me how much of a slut you are.”

“I-I’m the biggest slut!” Mikan said loudly, nearly shouting. “I think about you all day Mistress, of you u-using me like the slut I am. My,” she paused for a moment, embarrassed over what she was about to say, “m-my pussy aches for you every second.”

Junko must have appreciated her vulgar honesty because she raised her boot just enough to brush her heel against Mikan’s leg. “And who are you a slut for?”

Mikan nearly chomped her tongue in half with her hasty reply, “You! O-only you, Mistress. No one’s more of a s-slut for you than me.”

Junko clicked her tongue and gestured to the side. “Arms out and against the wall. If you move them without my permission I’m gonna be pissed, understand?”

Mikan drew a sharp, excited breath. “Yes, Mistress!”

She complied immediately, facing the wall with her arms outstretched, palms firm against the smooth surface. Junko had her wait there with the whirling thoughts in her brain for a wretchedly long time until finally Mikan heard movement from the bed and then felt Junko’s weight pressing against her from behind.

Junko swept Mikan’s hair out of the way before her lips made contact with the nape of her neck, sucking and biting, no doubt leaving various ownership stamps of glossy lipstick and incisor indents. Mikan moaned, shoulders hunching up from her sensitivity in that spot and she was sure that’s why Junko attacked there first.

Junko possessively gripped her hips as she continued lavishing Mikan’s neck with attention, a particularly ferocious bite making Mikan gasp and arch into her. That one would bruise and Mikan wanted it to. She wanted the whole world to know she belonged to Junko.

Those expert hands traversed her stomach, her ribs, before roughly palming her breasts. Mikan panted, arms shaking as she held them still against the wall. This was always so much simpler when Junko used handcuffs or some other restraints. In that case Mikan could struggle all she wanted, but here? It took all of Mikan’s willpower not to move. A jolt of pleasure too strong and her arm could flinch by accident. Not to mention how every cell in her body wanted to whirl around and throw herself at Junko, or at the very least guide Junko’s hand to where she was already wet and desperate.

Normally Mikan loved foreplay. Loved being pushed to the edge. But she had gone without Junko’s touch for far too long and she wanted her now.

Junko clearly didn’t care for her struggle and continued taking her time teasing Mikan’s body. Junko unhooked her bra and tossed it away, hands returning seconds later to pinch Mikan’s erect nipples. Mikan chomped on her lip, her breasts as responsive to Junko’s touch as ever.

“These slutty breasts are all mine. I can do whatever I want with them,” Junko said. When Mikan didn’t respond Junko harshly slapped her left breast. “ _Right_?”

Mikan gasped, pushing her chest further into Junko’s hands. “Y-yes! Yes Mistress, they’re all yours!”

Junko hummed, continuing to kneed and play with Mikan’s breasts. She circled her areola with her fingers and gently scratched at her nipples with her long nails, pleasure gradually building in Mikan’s core. God, Mikan loved her nails. Loved what those nails could do to her. It was incredible how the slight threat of pain, or the very sensation, could make her feel so hot.

Junko pressed herself further into Mikan’s back, her large, billowy breasts like a soft, erotic cushion, a tantalizing mixture of hot skin and cool latex. Junko smirked against her neck. “You like feeling my gigantic tits against your back, don’t you?”

Mikan whimpered, hyperaware of Junko’s breasts now that they were pointed out. “Y-yes, Mistress,” Mikan groaned. “They feel g-good.” Junko rubbed them up and down her back like they were massage rollers and Mikan’s hands balled into fists against the wall, wishing she could see them and hold them and kiss them.

“Other girls would kill to be in your position.” A harsh twist of her nipple and Mikan yelped. “You understand how lucky you are, right?”

“Yes!” Mikan panted. “Yes Mistress, I’m so l-lucky to be your slut, t-thank you.”

Junko’s hands lowered, teasingly creeping down her sternum, her belly, her waist, before rubbing her inner thighs but never touching where Mikan wanted her most. This cruel proposal of hope was worse than not being touched at all and only made Mikan more desperate for relief.

Then, finally, Junko’s thigh slipped between hers and brushed against her wetness, and how long Mikan had waited for a touch like that nearly made her come undone. Mikan cried out instantly, arching against the warm body behind her. She grinded down on Junko’s thigh, a shrill moan rippling from her throat. “Hnng, _Junko_!”

Junko’s movements stopped.

“Junko?” she echoed lowly.

Fear burst unexpectedly in Mikan’s chest like a firework that exploded too close to dead grass. That was a fatal mistake she just made.

She rushed to apologize even though she knew it was too late. “Ah, I-I’m s-sorry! I meant M-Mistress!”

Junko retreated and Mikan suddenly felt very lonely and exposed. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, her breasts were stiff and desolate as they heaved with anxious breaths, and her back felt cold and rigid like someone had thrown her in ice water.

“Oh, my pet,” Junko tutted, voice too close and too far away at the same time, “I can’t believe you would disrespect me like this.”

Mikan wanted to face her, to beg for forgiveness on her knees, but she hadn’t been given permission to move her arms. “I-I’m sorry, it j-just slipped out! It w-won’t happen again Mistress!”

“No, it won’t. I’ll make sure of that. Bad girls like you need to learn their place.”

“M-Mistress, I—”

“You’re not talking back to me, are you?”

Mikan bit her lip, a ball of anxiety and shame prickling her stomach, stretching outwards like a parasite until it consumed her entire being. She shook her head, hanging it low, her long mane slipping forward and curtaining her face in darkness.

“On the bed,” Junko ordered, leaving no room for argument. “Present yourself properly.”

Mikan released a shaky breath that did little to calm her nerves. She knew what was coming. She was just as scared as she was excited.

She did as she was told, heart thundering in her throat as she crawled onto the bed and remained on all fours, curving her spine to lift her ass high in the air. She gasped as Junko yanked down her panties, feeling her wetness cling to the fabric before splashing a little against her thighs. Her face burned bright red knowing Junko was staring, could fully see her arousal, and that she couldn’t cover herself.

The humiliation was liberating. She always wanted Junko to look at her. She wanted Junko to see every part of her.

Then Junko’s acrylic nails suddenly latched onto Mikan’s shoulders and dragged down her back. A gasp poured from Mikan’s throat followed by a low, prolonged moan, the burning trails sending jolts of electricity straight to her clit. Those claws dug deeper the further they travelled and Mikan squirmed, struggling to keep her position, lip caught in her teeth as they dipped down her lower back before hiking up the curves of her ass. Junko circled the flesh teasingly before harshly scraping down Mikan’s thighs, no doubt decorating the backside of her body with several angry red lines.

After pulling away Junko had her wait once again, vulnerable and exposed and afraid and ridiculously aroused. Mikan tried taking this time to level her breathing but she couldn’t, too turned on from the whole situation, adrenaline keeping her alert and ready for whenever Junko decided to touch her again.

A few minutes passed before Mikan heard Junko rummaging under the bed, clearly searching for something. A mumbled, “There it is, _Christ_ ,” came from below and then she heard the click of heels as Junko stood again. Then the thin leather pad of an easily recognizable riding crop gently caressed Mikan’s lower back before sliding down to her ass. It felt good, but Mikan knew it wouldn’t feel good much longer. This was meant to be her punishment, after all.

“Ten hits,” Junko said, bestowing Mikan’s ass with a light warning tap. “You’ll count and thank me for each one, won’t you?”

“Y-yes, Mistress.”

Mikan braced herself, eyes squeezing shut. A brutal whack against her right ass cheek and Mikan cried out, muscles tightening, but she kept her stance.

“O-one,” Mikan breathed after the rush of pain, “t-thank you.”

A click of Junko’s tongue. “Thank you _what_?”

“A-ah, t-t-thank you Mistress!” Mikan stammered hurriedly. “I-I’m sorry!”

“So naughty tonight. You deserve another ten for that, ain’t that right slut?”

Mikan whimpered but nodded. “Y-yes Mistress, I-I deserve any punishment you see fit.”

“Then we’ll start from the beginning. Twenty hits. If you don’t count and thank me properly then we start all over.” An eerie giggle. “Wouldn’t that be despair inducing?”

 _Whack_. “One, t-thank you Mistress.” _Whack_. “Two, t-thank you Mistress.” _Whack_. “T-three, t-thank you Mistress.”

The longer this continued the more Mikan’s voice cracked and the number her brain became, filled with nothing but the static of white noise, the searing, alternating pain of the riding crop, and the dripping ache between her legs. Each whack descended harder than the last. Each whack deterred her further and further from reality until it became nonexistent in the shadow of this shining fantasy.

She deserved this for disrespecting her mistress. A slut like her needed to learn her place. This pain was nothing compared to the way she hurt her mistress. Her mistress was doing her a favour, taking precious time out of her day to teach her this lesson. Mikan should be grateful.

Being grateful didn’t stop it from hurting.

By the time the whacks were over Mikan was crying, barely keeping herself upright as her knees and elbows quaked. Her ass felt raw and numb, burning like a bonfire, but the agony distributed upon her by her mistress in this shameful position because of her own disobedience only turned her on more.

She was a terrible pet, prioritizing her own needs before the feelings of her mistress like that. If she just respected her mistress in the first place then this wouldn’t have happened. Speaking her mistress’ given name like they were friends, like they were _equals_ ; how dare she mock her in such a manner.

“I-I’m sorry, M-Mistress,” Mikan cried, sobs tormenting her body. A bead of sweat on her temple joined the fat tears leaking from her eyes, mixing together and cascading off her chin to the towels clenched in her fists below. “I-I’m sorry. S-sorry. I’m s-s-sorry.”

For a moment it was quiet other than Mikan’s choked sobs and she half-expected to get yelled at, or get whacked again, but—

“Awww, it’s okay my sweet pet. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Mikan’s heart soared, butterflies tumbling in her belly like their wings were torn. That tone said it all. Junko had switched to Nice Mistress.

Mikan turned her head to look and, indeed, Junko’s expression and body language had softened considerably, a complete contrast to the persona she displayed just a moment ago.

“Come here!” Junko encouraged with a welcoming grin, sitting cross-legged on the bed and holding out her arms. The threatening riding crop was nowhere in sight. “C’mon. It’s okay.”

But Mikan stayed still, afraid to move; a deer in headlights. What if she moved to Junko, touched her, offended her in some way, and Junko decided to switch right back to Mean Mistress? She’d get a repeat punishment, or maybe something worse—a wild selection of other toys and equipment lay dormant beneath their bed that Mikan had no immediate desire to experience. Her backside was stinging too much to endure such treatment again so soon.

But those unknown possibilities sent thrills down her spine.

What made this roleplay so exciting was Mikan never knew what move she could make. If she had chosen a nice mistress, most of her desperate, spontaneous touches would be allowed. If she had chosen a mean mistress, her touches without permission would be punished. But she chose both, meaning Junko would flip between the personas without warning, meaning Mikan never knew which outcome she would receive.

Junko had full control and it was intoxicating.

And right now Junko’s eyes were warm and inviting, though Mikan was acutely aware how swiftly that could change.

Junko offered her hand. “It’s okay,” she repeated, voice indicatory and calming like the first drops of rain against a window, perhaps sensing Mikan’s doubt.

Summoning all her courage Mikan shifted and crawled towards her, metaphorical tail between her legs, resting a hand in Junko’s like she had been asked to shake a paw.

“There you go, I got you,” Junko cooed as she carefully gathered Mikan in her lap, mindful of Mikan’s sore bottom. Mikan hiccupped and Junko released a mellow breath, a hand brushing the sweaty bangs from Mikan’s eyes.

After a moment Junko’s brow furrowed in concern. “Oh, my pet, you’re shaking.”

Mikan froze, like that was something she should be ashamed of. And she was. It was a physical reminder, just like the red, stinging marks on her ass, that she had upset her mistress.

“I-I’m sorry,” Mikan whimpered, burying her face in Junko’s shoulder. She didn’t realize how noticeable her trembles were until just then as she rested against Junko’s strong, still frame. Mean Mistress had been cruel and Mikan loved it, was drenched from it, but now that Nice Mistress was here she craved comfort. “I-I’m so s-sorry, Mistress. I-I’ll be good. Please f-forgive me.”

Junko wiped at her tears, her other hand rubbing soothing circles on Mikan’s back. Mikan hiccupped again, curling up in Junko’s embrace like a small child. “Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Junko murmured, words soft like a fleece blanket on Mikan’s ears. “I forgive you.”

A spreading warmth tickled Mikan’s lower belly, rising until she felt a pleasant tightness in her chest. She couldn’t describe exactly what the feeling was but it was overwhelming and addicting, and it only surfaced when her mistress praised and comforted her. Tender moments like this were few and far in-between, and all the more special when Junko could switch personas at the drop of a hat, so Mikan let that feeling completely consume her, relishing every tingle in her bones.

Mikan stared up at Junko’s metallic lips that were curved in a gentle smile. She was fixated on them, wanted to taste them so bad, but she knew better than to make the attempt.

She had been prepared at the beginning to not receive a kiss until the roleplay was over, but she remembered Nice Mistress sometimes gave kisses on the mouth. Mikan felt blessed every time, like she was receiving a sacred gift. Not like she and Junko didn’t kiss all the time normally, but there was something different about it in this setting; when nothing existed outside this room. When it was just the pet and her mistress.

When it was up to Junko to decide if Mikan earned a kiss or not.

Junko must have felt generous, or thoroughly analyzed Mikan’s reactions as always, because she dove and pressed a comforting kiss to Mikan’s lips. Mikan sighed, her shakes calming, butterflies roaming in her belly again as she kissed back, loving the familiar caress of Junko’s mouth. She never pressed harder than Junko’s pace, wouldn’t dream of fighting Junko’s control, content with any affection Junko was willing to give.

Mikan rested her hands on Junko’s shoulders since she knew she could, steadying herself, as even something as simple as a kiss from Junko made her knees weak. And she was glad she did so because a moment later she felt teeth nipping at her ear.

“A-ah, Mistress!” Mikan gasped, nails digging into Junko’s shoulders.

“Hmmm?” The vibrations of that hum tickled Mikan’s skin. She shuddered as Junko’s tongue sailed along the shell of her ear, smooth along every curve, her shoulders unconsciously rising from the sensitivity. “What is it, my pet?”

Mikan whimpered, each lick and nip at her ear firing flaming arrows at her groin. Junko’s breath was as hot as her tongue, washing over her cheek like steam every few seconds. Mikan couldn’t think, her mind wiped blank, zeroing in completely on this moment. All she could see and hear and feel was Junko. “I—”

A moan interrupted whatever she was about to say, even she didn’t know, as Junko kneaded her breast in her palm and pinched her nipple. Mikan pushed her chest more into Junko’s hand, groaning as Junko rewarded her with a sharper pinch. Mikan glanced down at those inquisitive fingers, fingers that knew how to please her so well, that could bestow immeasurable amounts of pleasure and pain, and in doing so caught the beautiful sight of Junko’s breasts threatening to burst from her dress.

Mikan was spellbound by them since day one. Whenever they pressed into her back or her arm was squished in-between them or Junko leaned forward just a little too much, Mikan would be reduced to a barely functional mess that would do anything Junko asked of her; anything for the chance to see them or feel them just one more time.

And Junko knew that, it was clear she had always known that, and with a smirk Junko unzipped the top part of her dress, allowing her massive breasts to spill out. Mikan blushed, unable to stop staring with them within tasting distance.

“Hard to resist, aren’t they?” Junko murmured teasingly in her ear, the honeyed words coiling inside like a snake, tempting Mikan further by using an arm to lift them even closer to her face. Mikan bit her lip and nodded, cheeks blazing hotter at how easy she was to read. “You can touch them,” Junko offered, halting the distracting motions of her mouth at her ear so Mikan could remember how to think. “It’s okay.”

Mikan didn’t believe she had earned the right to touch the intimate parts of her mistress’ perfect body but she would never pass up the opportunity to touch her hypnotic breasts. Hesitantly Mikan lowered her head to ghost her lips along the upper swell of Junko’s breasts before circling her areola slowly with her tongue, gradually increasing speed and then sucking on the bud. It hardened quickly in her mouth and Mikan glanced up to see if she was doing well and Junko smiled and petted her hair, making butterflies flutter in her belly once again.

She made her mistress smile. She was making her feel good. She was proving herself worthy.

Gaining some confidence Mikan focused vigorously on her task, switching to Junko’s other nipple and spoiling it with just as much love. She sucked on it like a sour candy, cherishing the texture and flavour as they instilled into the bumps of her tongue. There was nothing more important than pleasing her mistress. She would do this all night if Junko allowed her.

But Junko evidently had other plans and Mikan knew this night still had much in store for her.

Junko tilted Mikan’s chin up with her finger, a wet _pop_ filling the air as Mikan’s mouth was forcefully detached from Junko’s nipple, a string of saliva still connecting the two. Junko stared at Mikan with lidded eyes, lust painting them a darker shade of blue, before tugging her upwards to kiss her again. This one was stronger, more possessive, and Mikan melted against her, moaning softly as Junko’s long tongue parted her lips and explored her mouth.

Mikan could barely think, fixated on the slimy, alien muscle gliding along her teeth, her gums, the way Junko tugged Mikan’s tongue into her mouth and sucked. Mikan used her hands to clumsily play with Junko’s breasts as they kissed, the only action she felt capable of performing in such a groggy state, and Junko gave an appreciative hum.

After pulling away and leaving Mikan panting Junko leisurely kissed her way down Mikan’s body while holding her upright in her lap, smearing lipstick along her neck, collarbone and chest. She took Mikan’s erect nipple between her lips and sucked, alternating between the gentle swipe of a tongue and the harsher nip of teeth in tune with Mikan’s responsive gasps and shutters. Junko took her time, lavishing Mikan’s breasts with affection until no patch of skin was unmarked.

Mikan’s heart hammered in her chest, so hard she knew Junko could hear it. Blood flowed hot like lava in her veins, the pleasant burn at her core intensifying with every brush of lips on her clammy skin. No one else could make her feel this way; like she could emit flames from her pores; like she was more luminous than a newborn star. Just her mistress.

Just Junko.

Pressure slipped between Mikan’s open legs and she nearly screamed, sticky thighs parting further to welcome Junko’s curious hand. Junko’s touch was light, teasing, just enough to dampen her fingers, and was clearly intended to drive Mikan crazy—succeeding rather quickly. Fingertips grazed her slick folds before Junko gently rolled Mikan’s aching clit between her fingers and Mikan gasped, arching against her, desperate for more.

Inside. She wanted Junko _inside_.

“Please,” Mikan panted, hips thrusting downwards in a futile attempt to guide Junko’s fingers to her entrance, “ _Junko_!”

Junko’s hand stopped moving. Slowly, very slowly, eyes pointed like ice shards lifted to meet Mikan’s.

“Did you just call me Junko _again_?”

A second dose of omnipotent fear flooded Mikan, worse than before, leaving her drowning in the murky waters. She made that mistake twice. She wouldn’t be so easily forgiven this time.

“M-Mistress, I’m s-sorry!” Mikan spouted, eyes widening as Junko’s previously soft expression shrivelled in fury. “I-I’m sorry! Please f-forgive me!”

With a sneer Junko shoved Mikan off her lap, persona changing in the blink of an eye. Pain shot through Mikan as her sore ass dragged against the towel but that was nothing compared to the knives Junko was glaring at her. “After I was so nice with you, after I _forgave_ you, you still think it’s okay to treat me like this. What a disobedient pet you are. Maybe I should go find a new one. I’m sure many girls would spread their legs just at the sight of me.”

Junko stood, heels clacking with finality as she stepped towards the door.

“No, M-Mistress, please!” Mikan cried, crawling after her like an injured animal, arms fastened taut to Junko’s leg even as Junko tried to kick her off. “I’ll m-make it up to you, _please_! P-please don’t leave me! I-I need you!”

“Why should I care?” Junko spat. “You clearly don’t care about respecting me.”

Mikan shivered at Junko’s resentful tone, tightening her hold. “I’m s-sorry Mistress! I’ll do better! I’ll do a-anything you want! Anything! I’ll be the best pet you’ve ever had, I-I promise! I’ll treat you right, _please_ , just g-give me another chance!”

She knew this was just a roleplay, knew Junko wouldn’t actually leave no matter how this scenario finished, but Mikan’s intensity was definitely inspired by real fears she possessed early on in their relationship. Not that Junko ever gave her a reason to think she would leave her for someone else, but Mikan had been abandoned and tossed aside so many times in the past that she automatically assumed Junko would do that, too.

She knew better now. She trusted Junko, and she knew Junko loved her. Junko wouldn’t be giving her such a fulfilling experience otherwise, both physically and mentally.

“Is that so?” Junko leaned against the door, folding her arms under her breasts. “Prove it to me then.”

Relief spread through Mikan like a wave. “Yes Mistress, t-thank you! I-I won’t let you down.”

Junko looked unimpressed. “We’ll see.”

Mikan wasted no time, leaning low to lick at Junko’s boot, the latex smooth and tasteless against her tongue. This was the one thing she knew Mean Mistress wouldn’t punish her for, and she knew better than to go for the prize between Junko’s legs right away. She had to earn it.

She would’ve held Junko’s boot in place for easier access but Mean Mistress’ silent rule was disallowing hands unless given explicit permission. Knowing that, Mikan still questioned the lack of handcuffs tonight. Either Junko was testing her resolve or was giving her more freedom of movement on purpose to ease her back into these types of sessions since they hadn’t done one for awhile.

So Mikan pressed her face to the ground like a dog to lap at Junko’s heel, stretching underneath when Junko lifted her foot a little. She would gladly convert her tongue into her mistress’ fulltime boot cleaner, regardless what dust and dirt could infect her mouth. It was humiliating, it was degrading, and it made her pussy throb.

She kissed her way up Junko’s boots, ensuring every inch was spotless and shiny, refusing to stop even when her jaw got tired. She had to prove herself. She would.

When she reached the ends of Junko’s boots she took a chance, pressing a kiss to Junko’s thigh. No angry remark befell her ears so she continued placing kisses on the available skin between Junko’s boots and the bottom of her mini dress. When there was no more reachable skin she glanced up at Junko who stared back with a raised eyebrow. Mikan bit her lip, risking a glance at her hidden treasure and hoping Junko would pity her, but Junko just stared and waited, forever patient—especially when Mikan was the most impatient.

Mikan captured Junko’s mini dress in her teeth and tried to lift it but the fabric was too tight to be moved in such a manner. Mikan whimpered, looking up at Junko with her best impression of watery puppy dog eyes, using her earlier tears to her advantage. Mikan was an easy crier and knew her mistress loved seeing her cry.

Junko rolled her own. “You think you deserve to eat me out? Especially after how much you’ve fucked up tonight?”

Mikan shrank back, face falling. “N-no, Mistress.”

“Duh.” Junko sighed. “But I’ll allow it if it helps you prove you’re sorry. So what do you say?”

Mikan’s face lit up again. “Thank you, Mistress!”

“Good.” Junko hoisted her mini dress over her hips and spread her legs a little further, giving Mikan full view of her underwear. “Now get to work, slut.”

The beautiful view, and the sharp insult, morphed Mikan into a drooling, untamed beast in heat. Just like Junko’s cooking from earlier, this was another meal of Junko’s Mikan couldn’t resist. Her mistress was a goddess, sculpted to perfection, and it was an honour to be able to touch her. Mikan would make her feel good.

She used her teeth to tug Junko’s soaked panties aside, allowing herself to feel a smidge of pride at how wet Junko was—she knew Junko loved the desperation and dramatization of these roleplays—and then dove in.

She lapped at Junko’s labia, moaning softly at the first tangy taste of Junko’s essence on her tongue. God, it had been so long. Her jaw was still sore from her climb but she’d sooner have her jaw break off than miss a single drop of this ambrosia. She licked deeper, teasing Junko’s entrance with the tip of her tongue but didn’t venture inside, planning to save that treat for later.

Mikan continued her voracious scavenge for Junko’s juices, not allowing any crease to remain untouched. Her own pussy ached for attention as she pleasured Junko’s, her own essence continuing to drip down her thighs. Junko was so talented at cleaning her up and her tongue was so amazingly long that she could reach the back of Mikan’s—

“You better do better than that.”

The nonchalant tone prompted Mikan to look up and she saw Junko checking her nails again, acting like this wasn’t even happening; like Mikan wasn’t making her feel good at all.

“I’m getting bored,” Junko added, salt in the torn open wound, and Mikan whimpered. That word was a dangerous sign. How dare she envision her own pleasure when she should be focusing on pleasuring her mistress? She couldn’t disappoint her. She couldn’t. Her mistress would leave to find a new pet, a prettier pet, if she didn’t prove herself. It would help so much if she could use her hands but if she wasn’t skilled with her tongue alone then she was a useless pet. She had to try harder.

She shifted her efforts higher to Junko’s clit, providing strong, varied licks until it peaked from its hood.

“Bet you never stop thinking about my pussy, do you? Fucking slut.” Junko fisted the messy hair at Mikan’s scalp and tugged, making Mikan yelp in pain. “I know you can use your tongue better than that. I’ve seen it roll out of your whore mouth when I fuck you.” Junko slammed Mikan’s face into her crotch with a growl. “Make use of it.”

Desperate to impress, Mikan sucked on Junko’s clit and moaned, knowing the vibrations would stimulate her—and she knew Junko liked that by the slight quiver in her thighs. So Mikan continued doing so, sucking hard and moaning, letting her teeth graze Junko’s clit every couple seconds. The quaking in Junko’s thighs got stronger until they became undeniably evident and Mikan felt an immense wave of pleasure when Junko couldn’t hold in a groan. Junko’s hand tightened in her hair, cramming Mikan so far into her pussy that she couldn’t breathe, but Mikan didn’t care; there would be no better way to suffocate.

On that last breath Mikan gave it her all, latching onto Junko’s clit like a leech, licking and sucking until she felt like her tongue would detach from her mouth.

Junko shoved her away right when Mikan knew she was about to come. Mikan panted deep gulps of air, dizzy from the lack of oxygen and from Junko’s scent still strong in her nostrils and down her throat. Mikan knew Junko loved the despair of having an orgasm ripped away from her; Junko would rather have her thighs tremble like an earthquake the rest of the night than achieve an orgasm that easily.

But if Junko shoved her away so forcefully that meant Mikan had done well.

Mikan wiped at the saliva and cum spilling down her chin, licking greedily at her fingers, high off the taste and off the source. She wouldn’t waste a drop.

She was so distracted she didn’t notice Junko approach until she gripped her hair again, tight like a clamp, and threw her face first onto the bed. Mikan gasped, planning to move and look at Junko for confirmation or instructions but Junko immediately laid on top of her, breasts squishing against Mikan’s back and pinning her to the bed.

“M-Mistress, what—”

A high-pitched whine tore from Mikan’s throat as Junko jammed two fingers inside her with no warning—thankfully the two that graciously had the fake nails removed.

“No resistance at all,” Junko commented lowly in her ear. “Loose ass slut.”

Junko didn’t take things slow, thrusting her fingers in and out at relentless speeds. The room was filled with the erotic squelching sounds of Mikan’s drenched pussy and her constant mewls of pleasure, her orgasm building quickly. Junko’s hard nipples drilling into her shoulder blades, Junko’s skillful fingers playing her like a fine-tuned harp, Junko’s hot breath caressing her ear, Junko’s nectar still sticky in her mouth—it was all too much too suddenly. Mikan squirmed as much as she could with Junko weighing her down but she couldn’t escape her unyielding touch—not that she wanted to, of course; she had been craving this not only all night but for months. But if Junko didn’t slow down, then...

“M-Mistress,” Mikan tried between moans. “Mistress, _ah_ , I—”

“Already?” Junko shoved Mikan’s face into the mattress, receiving a squeal from the force. “Don’t you dare fucking come without my permission.”

But Mikan couldn’t take it. It had been so long since she felt Junko inside her and the pressure along with Junko’s commanding tone and the whole situation itself was too much.

The first curl of Junko’s fingers and she came hard, biting the towel to muffle her scream, the tightness in her gut unwinding and exploding outwards until every nerve ending was alight with pleasure. She saw colourful stars as Junko kept plunging inside her until her inner walls clenched so firmly she caught Junko like a Venus flytrap, her hand unable to move until Mikan’s muscles relaxed a few moments later.

Mikan groaned softly as Junko pulled out, spent and temporarily satisfied, yet her clit twitched just from the disappointed click of Junko’s tongue.

“Ungrateful bitch,” Junko growled. “Not even a thank you.”

Mikan shivered, the powerful orgasm still residing in her bones. “Th... t-thank y— _ah_!”

Junko flipped Mikan, dazed and sluggish, on her front to smear her soggy fingers on Mikan’s cheek. Mikan smiled despite the treatment—or maybe because of it. She opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue, hoping Junko would do that again so she could get a taste.

Junko seemed willing to entertain that idea, sitting up to straddle Mikan’s hips with her thick thighs and dangling her godlike fingers above Mikan’s pleading tongue like she were holding out a treat for a dog. Mikan was transfixed by them; how they displayed the explosive pleasure they bestowed upon her like a trophy. Mikan craned her neck up but still couldn’t get close to her gold, sinking back down with a furrowed brow and a frustrated whine.

Junko gave a harsh tug at Mikan’s collar; a reminder who owned her. “Beg.”

Mikan’s whole body shuddered. “P-please, Mistress. Let me c-clean your fingers for you.”

“That was pathetic,” Junko ridiculed, pulling her hand further away. “Doesn’t sound like you want it nearly enough.”

“Please!” The near shout of a response from Mikan was instantaneous; she worried Junko would get off or retract her offer if she didn’t satisfy her quick enough. She knew her eyes were wet, almost overflowing, so she used that as leverage to keep Junko’s attention, forcing a tear to trickle down her cheek. “Please, I-I want your fingers in my mouth Mistress. I’m a f-filthy whore who always w-wants you inside me.”

Junko narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything, studying her, certainly admiring her cry, before eventually lowering her hand to Mikan’s face. Mikan’s eyes lit up, pressing a thankful kiss to Junko’s fingertip before enveloping her fingers up the knuckle in her mouth.

Mikan didn’t care for her own taste but she did care for licking it off Junko’s fingers. She bobbed her head back and forth, tongue weaving in-between Junko’s slick digits. Junko toyed with her tongue, made it clear who owned it, but never moved too quickly, nor forced herself deeper into Mikan’s mouth—possibly to avoid activating Mikan’s gag reflex. Mikan didn’t have much of a gag reflex anymore but she still appreciated Junko’s quiet concern.

Her cheeks grew hot as Junko watched her with dark eyes and that only inspired Mikan to work harder. She pressed her tongue flush against the underside of Junko’s fingers, gently grazing the top with her teeth. She sucked each finger individually, then both at once, sighing. These fingers always treated her so well, knew how to satisfy all her base desires, with scratches and rubs and flicks and thrusts; shame on her if she couldn’t return the favour, or at least prove her thankfulness.

Watching Mikan perform must have inspired an idea in Junko’s brain because her eyes widened like a revelation just came to her. All of a sudden her expression softened and she removed her fingers from Mikan’s mouth, much to her dismay, to cradle Mikan’s face in her hands.

The loving touch wasn’t something Mean Mistress would grace her with but Mikan waited for the reveal or further instructions just in case.

“My sweet pet,” Junko cooed, thumbing away the tearstains on Mikan’s cheeks, the tone and the compliment ensuring beyond any doubt that she switched to Nice Mistress. “Do that for me again, won’t you?”

There were no more juices left to clean but Mikan would gladly accept Junko’s skin on her tongue again. “Of course, Mistress!”

She expected Junko to just shove her fingers back in her mouth, or gather some of Mikan’s wetness on her fingers first.

She did not expect Junko to start touching herself.

With wide, frantic eyes, Mikan watched as Junko teasingly rubbed herself over her underwear, ensuring she had Mikan’s unbridled attention before sliding her thong just enough down her thighs to fully expose her wet, freshly shaven pussy. As a former model, and someone who held their beauty and hygiene at a high standard, Mikan wasn’t surprised that Junko was this prepared even when neither had known they would fuck tonight.

Not that it mattered to Mikan how Junko looked down there; Junko was always incredibly sexy. And if this was how Junko felt the most comfortable with herself then Mikan would openly admire and love every inch of her.

Junko spread her folds before slowly slipping a sole finger inside herself. Junko threw her head back and gave an exaggerated moan merely to turn Mikan on, Mikan knew this, and it _worked_ because it took every ounce of willpower not to thrust her hips up at Junko’s groin. She wanted to make Junko moan for real. She wanted to make Junko come. She was so close before and being pushed away at the last second, despite the pride in her work, had filled Mikan with a hapless slice of Junko’s egocentric despair.

She prayed she would get another chance. She craved Junko’s orgasm just as much as another of her own.

After a few gentle pushes, Mikan’s eyes glued to how easily Junko’s finger disappeared down to the knuckle and reappeared slicker each time, Junko pulled out and offered her moist finger to Mikan. “Clean,” she ordered.

Mikan drew an excited breath. “Yes, Mistress.”

And since this was Nice Mistress, Mikan could use her hands again. She held Junko’s hand in both her own, carrying it to her waiting mouth.

A quick lap at Junko’s fingertip and Mikan’s taste buds electrified once more. She couldn’t get enough of Junko’s sacred pungency. She took Junko’s whole finger into her mouth and sucked.

“Good girl,” Junko said, circling the pad of her finger on Mikan’s tongue. Mikan’s chest tightened from the uncommon praise, something so special about it coming from Junko. She hadn’t heard that pet name in awhile and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t overwhelm her with muggy arousal.

Mikan sucked harder, guaranteeing every inch of Junko’s finger was licked clean, vowing to memorize and savour every drop of Junko’s flavour. She licked up the sides, nibbled softly at the bend, blanketed Junko’s finger with the full, slick heat of her tongue. She flicked at the tip before suckling it, ensuring even under her fingernail was spotless.

“Good girl,” Junko purred, pulling out her finger with a _pop_ , saliva thin like spider’s silk connecting it to Mikan’s mouth until it split apart a moment later. Mikan moaned softly, thrilled by that particular praise once again. Junko grinned, tapping her wet finger on Mikan’s collar. “You like it when I call you that, don’t you?”

She wasn’t surprised Junko noticed. What did surprise her, however, was even though she experienced many degrading, embarrassing things tonight, for some reason it was this that made her feel the most shy. Mikan turned her head to look away, heat ascending her neck. “Y-yes, Mistress.”

Junko tutted at Mikan’s futile attempt to hide and cupped her cheek, turning her head back to face her. “How does it make you feel?”

Mikan swallowed, throat dry like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. The teasing glint in Junko’s eyes made her shiver but the open warmth of them made her want to bare her entire soul to her. She wanted Junko to know exactly how her body reacted to her; how just those two words from her sultry voice were enough to make Mikan come undone.

“Like... l-like I’m f-flying, Mistress,” Mikan stammered, struggling for the right words. “It makes my stomach feel h-hot and tingly, l-like it’s about to burst.”

“Oh?” Junko traced circles with her nails over Mikan’s lower belly, peering up at her through her dark eyelashes. Mikan let out a harsh wheeze through her nose, stomach muscles quivering under the featherlike touch. “Right here?” she whispered.

Mikan trembled, cheeks burning hot. “Y-yes.”

Junko shifted backwards to kiss Mikan’s stomach, just above her bellybutton. “Good girl,” she purred, over and over between staining kisses, amplifying the butterflies soaring just underneath. Mikan panted, gripping at the towels, unable to handle how those words made her feel along with Junko looking at her with such a knowing, dominant gaze.

Junko’s languid kisses trailed lower and lower, lipstick dyeing her pubic hair red and acrylic nails applying a fresh coat by gently scratching Mikan’s wet, quaking thighs. Mikan spread her legs obediently, hooking her hands around her knees to give Junko the easiest access.

Junko smirked. “Aww, I didn’t even have to tell you.” Another kiss at her patch of hair. “What a good girl.”

Mikan panted again, core hot and clit aching with need, feeling her fluids drip down her ass. God, she needed Junko to touch her. She never needed Junko’s touch more than right now.

Junko gazed at her. “What is it you want?”

Mikan gulped, bashful under such a direct question. “I... want you to t-touch me, Mistress.”

“Touch you where?” Junko asked innocently with a look that definitely wasn’t. Her nails teased Mikan’s inner thighs, moving frustratingly close to Mikan’s heat but never close enough. “I won’t know if you’re not specific.”

Any stubborn remnant of modesty had to be thrown out the window.

“P-please touch my pussy!”

Junko grinned. “Good girl.”

The flat of Junko’s tongue suddenly swiped up her wetness and Mikan cried out, head falling back against the mattress. Junko chuckled quietly, fanning her hands across Mikan’s thighs to keep her still and pressed closer, lapping at her entrance. She felt Junko dive inside and Mikan’s eyes rolled back in her head, Junko’s long tongue reaching her deepest parts. That tongue writhed and explored, a much gentler intrusion than Junko’s fingers had been but just as satisfying and just as aware of all the fragile spots that made Mikan squirm.

With the pad of her finger Junko began rubbing slow circles on Mikan’s clit, timing them with the thrusts of her tongue. A prolonged moan reverberated from low in Mikan’s throat, blessed to be touched so intimately by Junko, and then Junko pried back the hood and licked at her exposed clit. Mikan’s hips jolted, heaving a broken gasp, the tingling bundle of nerves still a little sensitive from her previous orgasm. Junko placed a kiss on her thigh, an apology for the overstimulation, before pressing more gently, working Mikan up with faint brushes of her nose and lips before using her tongue again.

Mikan sighed, happy and aroused and in love. Junko looked so beautiful between her legs, gazing up at her with twinkling blue eyes. She was so amazing at everything she did; always leaving Mikan in awe. She even made cunnilingus look like an art form. Mikan was her canvas, a canvas that had been overlooked for its frail structure by so many others, and instead of any favoured tools Junko always picked the brush and paint the canvas itself responded to best; whichever techniques and materials made the canvas glow with confidence and beauty.

She made Mikan feel desirable. She made Mikan her masterpiece.

It didn’t take long for a familiar tightness to build in Mikan’s core, her hips meeting every deep lick. With a foreboding snicker Junko wrapped her lips around Mikan’s clit and sucked, hard, and Mikan’s thighs quaked, barely able to keep hold of her legs. She squirmed but Junko held her down and that lack of control, specifically Junko having control of her, just pushed Mikan even closer to the edge.

“M-Mistress, please,” Mikan begged, moaning with each rough breath, eyes squeezing shut and pressing her face into the towel. Junko’s lips were devilish and way too skilled for Mikan to handle. Every lick and kiss was calculated, each carrying exceptional intimate knowledge of Mikan’s weaknesses, summoning every coarse noise and bodily jerk. Mikan was already so close, her clit pulsing with her approaching orgasm under Junko’s tongue. Just a little bit more and—

Junko pulled away.

Mikan gave a cry of frustration, hips attempting to chase after Junko’s mouth. “M-Mistress, no, d-don’t stop!” she whined. “I was so c-close!”

Junko grinned, lips and chin glossy with Mikan’s essence. She flicked Mikan’s engorged clit with her finger and Mikan gasped, body violently shuddering. Even that harsh touch was almost enough but she still needed more. She would always want more. No matter how sensitive or tired she was, she never wanted Junko to stop touching her.

“Not yet my sweet pet,” Junko said, reaching up to cup Mikan’s cheek and Mikan immediately leaned into the soothing touch. “But if you’re patient I’ll make you feel even better. How does that sound?”

Mikan’s heart pounded in her ears. “Even b-better, Mistress?”

“Mhmm. I have a surprise for you.” Junko winked and pointed behind her. “Stand over there and close your eyes.”

Mikan’s legs were so shaky she had to lean against their dresser in order to stand. Her clit was erect and yearning, responsive even to the air and pulsing with need. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together, desperate for that sweet relief only a few more touches would bring, but she knew she’d be punished for touching herself.

As appealing as a spanking sounded, the aforementioned orgasm would be worthless if not achieved by Junko’s hand, and Junko’s surprise had her curious. And, like Junko said earlier, her surprises were always the best.

With a shaky breath, Mikan closed her eyes and tried to think of anything other than the orgasm that was cruelly ripped away from her—Junko _had_ promised to make her feel even better. Mikan heard a zipper loosening along with clothing landing across the room. She also heard Junko rummage under the bed again which sent a thrill to Mikan’s groin.

A moment later Junko said in a singsong voice, “Okay, open sesame.”

The childish tone definitely did not match what Mikan saw once she opened her eyes. Junko wasn’t in her mini dress anymore, nor her thong, her marvelous—and still worryingly skinny—body on full display, and was attaching a strap-on around her pelvis. After securing the final clasp she sat on the edge of the bed with her knees shoulder width apart, the thick, red appendage dangling between her legs.

Mikan couldn’t look away, mesmerized by how sexy Junko looked wearing it and what such a toy implied.

“My sweet pet,” Junko said, coaxing her forward with a curl of her finger. “Come here, would you?”

Mikan bit her lip, following the instructions and standing in front of Junko. The shaking in her legs only increased as Junko’s smile grew.

Junko glided her fingertips over the toy, pointing it up at Mikan. “Prepare my cock for me.”

Warmth spiked at Mikan’s core. “Y-yes, Mistress.”

Mikan sank to her knees and poked the head with her tongue, the silicone smooth and bland. She dragged the tip of her tongue along every inch, licking at the base, stroking the underside, slathering the full length with messy kisses. She gathered saliva in her mouth and let it drizzle onto the tip before wrapping her lips around it and sucking.

“What a good girl,” Junko murmured, Mikan’s chest squeezing from the praise. She’d never get tired of hearing it; of the heat it surged through her body. “You’re an expert at sucking dick, aren’t you?”

“Yes Mistress,” Mikan replied, too eager and turned on to be embarrassed by such a blunt statement anymore, “I-I’m a slut who loves s-sucking your dick.”

Mikan slowly bobbed her head back and forth, taking the dildo as deep as she could. Junko buried her lithe fingers in Mikan’s hair, keeping the wild, sweaty strands out of her face. Junko’s fingers felt so nice in her hair, so gentle combing her scalp, and Mikan lost herself to the feeling, almost forgetting what she was doing for a moment. No other mistress would treat her so sweetly or let her work at her own pace. Mikan was such a lucky pet; so honoured to have Junko’s cock fuck her mouth.

“Pretend it’s real,” Junko said to encourage her. “Try and make me come.” Acrylic nails scratched at the nape of Mikan’s neck, shooting a vicious shiver down her spine. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Mikan panted around the cock parting her lips. “Y-yes Mistress, of course. A-anything for you.”

This time, unlike when Mikan ate Junko out, she used her hands. Nice Mistress was okay with hands.

Mikan pumped at the base and flicked the head rapidly with her tongue, looking up to see Junko watching with dark, hooded eyes and beautifully rosy cheeks. Mikan knew Junko loved seeing her like this; a slobbering mess on her knees and worshipping her like a goddess. Even if Junko couldn’t feel what she was doing to the strap-on, Mikan knew Junko still got immense pleasure from the sight, from the dominance, so she did everything she could to please her.

She stroked faster, nibbling and sucking at the tip like fluids would spurt out any second. In her mind she pictured Junko crying out and thrusting her hips forward, her load filling her mouth and sliding down her throat. Mikan would’ve gladly swallowed every last drop and milked every straggler. Keeping that image in mind she tickled the base of the toy with her nails and used her other hand to grip Junko’s thigh, grounding herself as she took a deep breath and buried the cock down her throat, holding herself there as long as she was able.

Only when Mikan felt hands on her cheeks did she ease out, relaxing the muscles in her throat to not gag or cough. She looked up in a daze at Junko, her goddess, who immediately leaned down to kiss her roughly, all teeth and tongue. Saliva dribbled down Mikan’s chin, moaning as Junko ravaged her mouth. She tasted her lingering scent on Junko’s lips and was quickly reminded of how wet she still was; how much she yearned for Junko’s touch.

“Very good,” Junko said after pulling back, caressing Mikan’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Good girls get rewarded, don’t they?”

Mikan trembled, grip tightening on Junko’s thigh, forgetting how to speak. She knew what that sentence entailed. She knew what Junko planned on doing to her; what Junko had been thinking about doing to her for the past while. This shouldn’t be something that made her heart race after all they had done tonight, after everything they had done since the beginning of their relationship, but knowing that Junko fantasized about fucking her, that she was able to turn Junko on to such a degree, had her heart skyrocketing.

Junko leaned down, lips brushing against Mikan’s ear. “ _Don’t they_?” she repeated in a whisper, nipping on Mikan’s earlobe.

“Ah, y-yes Mistress!” Mikan spluttered, cheeks burning. “T-thank you!”

Junko smirked, giving a harsh tug to Mikan’s ear before pulling away, taking Mikan’s breath with her. Junko scooted backwards and laid down, the red dildo, slick with Mikan’s saliva, sticking proudly up in the air; a promise of upcoming ecstasy. She tapped the head with her nail. “Sit,” Junko commanded.

Mikan nearly tripped from how quickly she launched herself onto the bed, throwing an eager leg over Junko’s body and straddling her. She took the toy in her hands, lubed it further with her trickling juices, and lined it up with her entrance. It was big, curved to titillate, and Mikan felt like she would die if she had to go one more second without it inside her.

She slowly lowered herself onto the toy and moaned, the thick shaft filling her deeply. She was so wet there was barely any resistance. Every part of her wanted to thrust like a madwoman, to lose herself in lust, but the one last brain cell that still registered logic convinced her to wait, warned her of consequences for impulsivity, so she stayed still out of respect and stared at Junko, nibbling her lip impatiently.

After all, her mistress had given her permission to sit, not permission to move.

“Good girl, waiting for your instructions like that,” Junko said with a proud smile, reaching up to affectionately squeeze Mikan’s breast. Mikan whimpered at the praise, pushing her chest further into Junko’s hold. A tantalizing nail flicked her erect nipple. “You can move now.”

Mikan panted, a dam releasing in her brain at the go ahead, raising her hips a little before sinking back down, continuing to do so until she swallowed the entirety of the toy. Her canines nearly split her bottom lip, only allowing herself a second to adjust to the stretching of her walls before she needed more, even welcomed the pain, and began rocking against the shaft.

Junko didn’t move, letting Mikan do all the work, but her hands were a comforting guide on her hips.

“Does that feel good, pet?” Junko purred, eyes wandering between Mikan’s face, breasts and pussy, all of which currently showed appreciation for her mistress.

“Y-yes, Mistress. It feels so good. Your c-cock feels so good.”

Junko rewarded her shameless honesty by beginning to thrust, moving at a torturously slow pace, forcing Mikan to slow down with her. She brushed her thumb along Mikan’s clit slowly, carefully, like she were cleaning individual dust particles off a delicate, valuable object, and Mikan hissed through her teeth, thighs trembling from the stimulation.

It was too light. Too gentle. Mikan needed more. She needed Junko to go faster. She needed Junko to take her.

“Please, more!” Mikan begged, slamming her hips up and down, flooding the room with the erotic slaps of her drenched pussy. “Fuck me, fuck me!”

A ravenous growl. “Of course you want more. A slut like you is only satisfied when getting dicked down, huh?”

Mikan was startled by the sudden persona change and Junko took advantage of that and switched their positions, getting Mikan on her hands and knees and ramming into her ruthlessly from behind. Mikan moaned shamelessly, spreading her legs wider, thrilled and dripping from Junko’s rough display of dominance. Junko slapped her ass, hard enough that Mikan was sure a bright red handprint would join any marks that remained from earlier.

“You like that, don’t you?” A fierce glob of spit impacted the curve of Mikan’s lower back. “Fucking slut.”

Mikan couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed with pleasure. The cock burying itself deep inside her mixed with the physical pain and degradation was everything Mikan could ever want. She loved when her mistress treated her like this, like she was just a mat to be stepped on; her body a slab of meat to be soiled in any way her mistress saw fit.

Another stinging rush of pain against her bottom. “Answer me!”

“Y-yes!” Mikan gasped. “Yes, I-I love it Mistress!”

Junko squeezed her ass, acrylic nails digging agonizingly deep into her raw flesh, spreading her wide open. Mikan groaned, humiliated at being so exposed, so used, her inner walls clenching around her mistress’ merciless cock. Mikan liked imagining it was real. She liked imagining her pussy was bringing Junko intense pleasure, too; that she could hurl Junko over the edge and absorb every last drop of her cum like a good pet was supposed to.

Nice Mistress might have indulged that little fantasy of hers. She might have moaned for her pet and pretended to come inside her.

Nice Mistress wasn’t here.

Junko fisted her hair roughly, hoisting Mikan’s head up. It was straining on her neck but Mikan already knew Junko wouldn’t hold her like this for long; it was merely to cause an adrenaline rush, one that shot destructive energy through Mikan’s form like a cannonball.

“You better not come without my permission this time or I’ll never put my dick in you again,” Junko warned, tightening her grip until some hairs almost ripped out. “Understand?”

The very thought of never receiving pleasure like this again hurt more than the follicles tearing at her scalp, but at the same time the threat almost made her come on the spot. “Y-yes Mistress,” Mikan panted between moans, cheeks hot and tongue hanging from her mouth like an overheated dog.

Junko looked disgusted at the sight but Mikan knew she had been waiting for it. “Horny bitch,” Junko spat, shoving Mikan’s head forward like she was trash being tossed aside, returning her claws to Mikan’s ass and pounding ferociously. Mikan used her arms to push back and meet every thrust, her mind going hazy with lust and white hot pleasure.

Months she went without this. How did she survive months without this?

Junko flipped Mikan onto her back, gripping under her knees to pry apart her legs and thrust into her again. Mikan moaned, breasts bouncing and thighs rippling from Junko’s exertion. She was thankful to have Junko in her sights again and gazed upon her with blurry vision and god she looked so sexy, with massive breasts swinging and taut muscles rolling; with those pretty lips curved in a thoughtful scowl.

Her eyes were so dark, pointed and predatory, devouring every inch of Mikan’s body and soul.

Even then, Mikan saw the love in them. Mikan knew Junko was enjoying this, both for the pleasure of being in control and from making Mikan feel good. Giving Mikan pleasure brought Junko pleasure; she figured that out a long time ago.

Junko was so wonderful to her. She knew how to make her heart pound out of her chest, how to short-circuit her brain, how to make her pussy burn with joy. She knew when to be rough, when to be gentle, when to push Mikan to the edge and when to pull her back. She put so much effort into understanding and recognizing all of Mikan’s desires and reactions and learned how to respond accordingly.

She was so accommodating, so empathetic, and Mikan never thought she would meet someone who would give her the time of day let alone try so hard for her.

Mikan loved her. She loved her so much. That insatiable love spread heat throughout her body and down to her groin where Junko was still thrusting in a steady rhythm.

She couldn’t take it. Her body was ready to show Junko how much she loved her.

But she still had to ask. And, with a hot twist of anxious pleasure in her gut, she had a feeling Junko wouldn’t let her off so easy; not in the pinnacle of this roleplay. Just because Junko loved her and wanted her to feel good didn’t mean Junko wasn’t going to behave mischievously and for the sake of her own selfish desires.

“Mistress, I’m...” A particularly sweet slam had her biting her lip. “P-please, c-can I—”

Junko sped up suddenly, snatching the only copy of Mikan’s verbal request away like a thief, and just as Mikan was about to come Junko pulled out, denying her the orgasm.

“N-no, Mistress, _please_!” Mikan was crying even though she expected this, her throbbing pussy begging for release. Twice now it was torn away from her by both versions of her sadistic mistress. Her hips writhed, lifting from the bed and desperately searching for any source of friction only to be severely disappointed.

Junko was unsympathetic to the cause of her suffering—or being the cause of her suffering—but certainly seemed interested in Mikan’s twisted expression. “What are you feeling right now?” she asked, sounding intrigued rather than mocking.

“D-despair, Mistress.” Mikan knew Junko was obsessed with despair. And that it turned her on; that seeing Mikan overcome by her beloved despair would turn her on. “I,” a wheeze and a frantic roll of hips, “I want to come!”

Mean Mistress never cared what she wanted, though, especially when she got lost in the throes of despair. Mikan didn’t even try keeping her tears at bay. Her mistress loved when she cried. Maybe if she cried enough her mistress would let her come.

“Embrace the despair, my pet,” Junko said, dark eyes swirling, a manic grin bisecting her face. “Nothing is better. Nothing is more powerful than beautiful despair. Let it consume you.”

Junko slid the dildo along her folds, brushing the head against her sensitive clit and Mikan whined, needing more, but knew that wasn’t her decision to make. Junko was enjoying this way too much to pity her.

Junko held her there, a sodden mess, occasionally touching her clit to inspire hope, only to continuously drop Mikan down a pitfall of despair. Mikan watched Junko’s cheeks grow pinker each time, her breathing growing slightly erratic. She looked gorgeous in her state of ecstasy but Mikan felt like she was dying, her mind and body at war between enjoying Junko’s pleasure and begging for her own.

Junko waited, always torturous with the waiting, until Mikan’s arousal had settled before pushing inside her again. Mikan couldn’t even say thank you, not with the prolonged, guttural moan that tore from her lips. She was whole again, felt incomplete without Junko’s presence, and if she could she would trap this cock inside her and never let it leave, allowing her pussy to mould to its shape.

Lithe fingers gripped Mikan’s hips and Junko began thrusting at a steady pace. Not nearly as fast or as hard as Mikan wanted and she knew it was on purpose. It was meant to ache, to hurt, to draw out her despair. She whimpered, rolling her hips in the hopes that Junko would speed up, but her efforts just earned her a growl and a fierce slap on the boob. Mikan yelped, shocked from the sudden pain, but aroused even more so.

“Of course you liked that. Masochistic whore.” Junko slapped her breasts several more times and harshly pinched her nipples, nails biting, making Mikan groan through clenched teeth. Then she clawed her way down Mikan’s body, leaving furious red lines, and Mikan desperately arched into the touch, never wanting those nails to leave her skin. Those nails dug into the flesh of her belly, almost to the point of breaking skin, but the threat only made Mikan wetter.

Junko scoffed. “Admit it, you filthy slut,” she said, tugging at Mikan’s collar to hold her head off the pillow. She slowed her thrusts to the point where each one was painful; a tease of hope with a promise of despair. “Admit you love being hurt by me. Admit you love me fucking you raw. Admit both make you lose your mind.”

All Mikan’s modesty was gone. She just wanted Junko to take her.

“I-I love it! Your nails, your cock, I-I can’t get enough. I love being marked by you. I love being yours!” She was shouting but she didn’t care. She would shout this out the window with a megaphone if it got Junko to move faster. “P-please fuck me harder, Mistress! Make me lose my mind! Make me only think about you!”

Junko grinned. “What about this, then?”

She pushed Mikan’s knees towards her head and trapped them to the mattress around her elbows, ensuring Mikan was wide open with no chance of closing her legs. This position was so humiliating and Mikan loved it just as much as she knew Junko did. Mikan being stuck in such an exposed state offered a new angle for Junko to abuse and she ploughed deep inside her without restraint, each thrust hammering her G-spot.

Immediately Mikan’s eyes rolled back in her head, hands fisting the towels, thighs quaking from each powerful plunge. She felt so full, so hot, so helpless, and it took everything in her not to come right then.

Junko bit at her jaw, her neck, her chest, leaving near bloody indents that would ache later but all they did now was act as fuel added to the wildfire in Mikan’s core. Mikan squeezed around the dildo ravaging her, her body desperate either to keep Junko in or keep her out, but Junko was never one to give up and kept thrusting anyway, drawing out each and every one of Mikan’s choked noises.

Mikan was powerless. A toy for her mistress to use. She had no choice but to let Junko fuck her into oblivion.

And, god, why would she choose anything else?

Her orgasm built hot and fast, each thrust like a countdown on a hastily receding timer. Junko showed no intention of slowing down but Mikan knew she wouldn’t be able to handle this treatment much longer; she was surprised she even lasted this long. Her pussy was burning, her body was shaking, her brain was foggy, and every cell in her system craved release.

“M-Mistress!” Mikan panted. “Mistress, p-please, c-can I come?”

“Fuck no,” Junko growled, speeding up her wet thrusts.

The denial only made her sopping pussy clench harder. Mikan hysterically shook her head back and forth, sweat pouring down her temples. “M-Mistress, please, _please_ , I-I _can’t_ —”

“Yes you can. Fucking hold it.”

“ _Mistress, please_!” Mikan wailed.

Junko moved her lips right next to her ear, heavy breaths hot and ticklish. Mikan waited, and waited, and waited, knowing if she didn’t she would disappoint her but Junko was slamming into her without mercy and she couldn’t escape and she couldn’t keep holding on and she had to come, she had to come, she was going to—

“ _Come for me_.”

Mikan threw her head back and screamed something nonsensical, it didn’t matter, she didn’t care, as the powerful orgasm that had been pushing at her restraints finally flooded free, erupting like a geyser. Her back arched and her legs unconsciously tried to close in response to the overwhelming stimuli but Junko pressed down and held her open, refusing to stop moving even as Mikan clenched around the dildo like a vice, prolonging Mikan’s orgasm with every deep thrust. Mikan couldn’t think, felt like she didn’t even exist, the only thing still attaching her to reality was her core exploding with white hot pleasure and the continuous scraping of her contracting inner walls.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Mikan felt any of her other senses return, her body quivering with orgasmic aftershocks. Her head lolled to the side, tears and saliva pooling below. She was exhausted; little more than a sweaty ragdoll.

And she was so, so fulfilled.

Junko slowly pulled out—Mikan groaned at the sensation, feeling so empty now, like the ache of a phantom limb—carefully straightened Mikan’s locked legs back down on the mattress, and nonchalantly threw the drenched strap-on away.

“M-Mis,” Mikan hiccupped, “tress. T-thank...”

Junko cupped her cheek, the touch grounding and safe, an obvious sign of which version she was now looking at. “Shh, no need to talk,” she whispered soothingly. “Just stick out your tongue.”

Mikan obliged and Junko promptly shifted forward to sit on her face. She was absolutely soaked and Mikan felt pride in that. Junko grinded against her mouth and for a moment Mikan simply let her, too tired to do anything else. But soon instinct kicked in, her small, backup energy storage, and then Mikan gave every effort she could in pleasuring Junko, alternating between burying her tongue deep inside her and sucking on her clit. She could tell Junko was already close by her quick, ungraceful pace and jittery hips; Junko always teetered on the edge after fucking her senseless, and in all fairness Junko had been holding in an orgasm since before Mikan had her first.

A scrape of teeth against her clit then a loud, “ _Fuck_!” and Junko threw her head back in a silent scream, coming hard and gushing all over the lower half of Mikan’s face. Mikan moaned low in her throat, chest warm with joy from bringing Junko to orgasm, licking her lips and lapping up what she could despite her sore jaw.

“Holy shit,” Junko breathed, the rise and fall of her chest obvious and heavy. Mikan lazily cleaned her thighs and folds, avoiding her over-stimulated clit while Junko came down from her high.

After a few moments, silent other than the heavy pants from both of them, Junko manoeuvred herself off of Mikan and reached for something on the bedside table. Mikan was still too dazed to see what it was until it was right in front of her, a rag, and Junko used it to gingerly clean Mikan’s face before tossing it away and collapsing next to her. She unclasped Mikan’s collar and set it aside before gathering Mikan loosely in her arms, keeping her close but also giving her space to breathe.

There was something so ephemeral about Junko after sessions like this were over, now that Mikan could relax and get a good look at her. Her once tight ponytail was messy and barely held together, loose strands flowing down her chest. Sweat had smudged a bit of her eye makeup and her left set of fake eyelashes were beginning to peel off. Her cheeks still blossomed with pink from adrenaline and the aftermath of her orgasm. Her lipstick had faded but the tiny smile she wore was more vibrant than the metallic shade ever was.

She looked so beautiful, so radiant, and only Mikan ever got to see her like this.

“You can call me Junko again,” she said, stroking Mikan’s arm. “We’re done with the roleplay for now. You’re not my pet and I don’t own you.” Junko glanced away, looking surprisingly timid. “You know I didn’t mean any of those things I called you, right?”

Mikan smiled. It was always so precious when Junko got like this. Junko had admitted to her before that she used to not be a very good person; that she used to call people those names for real, and when she shit-talked people she still occasionally used words like that. And Mikan had told Junko that in her past many of her bullies called her derogatory terms like slut and whore. But Mikan knew in this case it was all for the roleplay—she loved those words during these roleplays—and found it both cute and sweet that Junko wanted to be sure she didn’t offend her or unearth bad memories.

She nudged closer to Junko, pressing her face to her clammy shoulder and giving it a kiss. “I-I know. Don’t w-worry my beloved; your mean mistress was as w-wonderful as ever.” The previous _good girl_ comments echoed in Mikan’s brain and she shivered. She didn’t remember those ever being as effective as they were tonight and prayed to hear them more in future sessions. “Y-your nice mistress, too.”

Junko noticeably relaxed after that. “So you had fun?”

“Yeah,” Mikan breathed, gazing lovingly at Junko; at this absolute goddess of a woman she felt blessed to have in her life. “So much fun.”

Junko met her in a chaste kiss, one that held just as much affection, maybe even more, than the passionate ones from earlier. Mikan tasted herself on her lips. Junko probably tasted herself on her lips, too.

“Anything you didn’t like?”

There was weight behind Junko’s question despite its innocent appearance and Junko’s cheery expression. Mikan remembered one time a few years ago, one singular time, where Junko accidentally hurt her in one of their roleplays and Junko beat herself up about it for weeks after. No matter how much Mikan assured her that she was okay and that accidents happen, Junko took it very seriously.

And now Junko was more mindful than ever. That was probably why she never pushed her fingers or the dildo deeper down Mikan’s throat, why she didn’t use any toy harsher than a riding crop tonight, why she never brought out the handcuffs, and why she asked that question every time even when Mikan had thoroughly enjoyed herself.

Mikan shook her head, hoping to ease Junko’s quiet concerns. “The whole thing was a-amazing. Nothing was too much.” Mikan winced as she shifted her position. “M-my butt hurts, though.”

Junko snorted. “I’d apologize but, like, I know that got you wetter than Splash Mountain.”

Heat rose up Mikan’s neck and she buried her face in Junko’s chest. She couldn’t deny it. Everything Junko said and did, whether it brought pain or pleasure or both, definitely sent her heart on a roller coaster and soaked her nether regions thoroughly.

“W-was there anything you didn’t like?” Mikan asked, shyly playing with a twirl of Junko’s hair. “Anything I-I should do better?”

She was a very submissive pet today like always. She was sure Junko enjoyed the crying and the grovelling but maybe Junko would’ve preferred it if she took more risks, or behaved more like a brat. That would take practice—and loads more courage—but Mikan would be willing to try if Junko was into that.

But Junko shook her head. “Nope! The entire thing was hella hot, don’t you worry babe.” Junko snickered, a lopsided smirk stretching her lips. “You were really pushing your luck calling me Junko _twice_ though. Some monster sized balls on you.”

Mikan blushed and spluttered. “I s-swear both times were s-slipups.”

Junko looked unconvinced. “Oh yeah, sure. You didn’t just do it ‘cause you wanted to be punished. Your masochistic ass would never do that.”

“I s-swear it wasn’t on p-purpose!” Mikan whined, thumping her forehead against Junko’s shoulder, exalting a bark of laughter from her lover. “It’s just b-because we haven’t done this for awhile so I’m not used to c-calling you mistress that often. A-and it only happened when I got desperate.” Mikan paused, caught in delicious memories, and bashfully looked away. “N-not that I’m complaining about the consequences...”

“And the truth comes out.” Junko chuckled, grinning ear to ear. “Dating a sadist has its perks, huh?”

Mikan was too embarrassed to reply but Junko didn’t seem to mind, just laughing a little and holding Mikan closer.

Mikan enjoyed the tranquil stillness for the next several minutes, relishing the comfortably dim lighting; the rain beginning to patter against their window; the smell of sex lingering in the air. Junko’s hand was soothing as she combed through her locks. Junko’s calm heartbeat was like a lullaby next to her ear. Mikan could fall asleep like this.

But she wasn’t ready for that yet. As nice as it would be to fall asleep next to Junko tonight, the sooner that happened meant the sooner she had to go to work the next day, and who knew when she would get to spend quality time with Junko afterwards.

“I-I really missed this. Missed you,” Mikan said. She interlaced their fingers and squeezed. “I love you so much, Junko.”

Junko smiled. “I love you too, my sexy,” an exaggerated kiss was pressed to Mikan’s forehead, “hardworking,” her cheek, “nurse,” and her nose, followed by several more peppered all over Mikan’s face. Mikan giggled and blushed under the playful affection, heart swelling just like always when Junko behaved this way.

“Whenever our s-schedules line up,” Mikan started when she finally caught a break from Junko’s kisses, “c-could we do this again?”

“Sure. If you think you can handle me,” Junko teased, thrusting out her chest and doing a ridiculous pose like some pinup girl.

Mikan giggled at her antics before her face fell, holding Junko tight. “I-I wish we didn’t have to wait so long.”

A short pause. Mikan felt those analytical eyes boring through her; practically heard the gears grinding in Junko’s brilliant mind.

“I mean,” Junko leaned over to murmur in Mikan’s ear, her tone dropping an octave and her leg slipping between Mikan’s, “I’m down to keep going.”

Heat pulsed in Mikan’s groin. Her body had recouped, the fog in her mind had cleared, and just the suggestion had her rubbing her thighs together, still sticky from previous activities. Junko was soft and warm pressed close against her, and who was she to complain if Junko wanted to be even closer?

Mikan bit her lip and nodded, trembling excitedly under Junko’s dominant grin as Junko fastened her collar around her neck once again.

The night was young, tomorrow would be all too lonely, and Mikan wasn’t ready to leave her fantasy world just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this and I’m already debating writing a second one. So if y’all enjoyed this and potentially want a sequel or anything please let me know. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your time and every kudos and comment :)


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